The opening of “The Secret of Tristan Bantam” shouldn’t work. You shouldn’t be able to open an adventure story, a story of brave sailors, assassination attempts, magic, treason and historical mystery, with something as static as a shot of man lounging in a chair; and if you do decide to simply show a would-be man of action in a pose of absolute _in_ action you certainly can’t have your narration refer to him in such grandiose terms as a “man of destiny.” That is – _you_ can’t, _I_ certainly can’t. But Hugo Pratt can. When he draws Corto Maltese, even at repose, he always draws a man of destiny. A man at ultimate ease with himself, who knows who and what he is, yet a possessor of nearly-endless curiosity. That opening panel shows man looking lazily at the world, at the reader, knowing that the rest would soon be over; some strange things would come. That was my first introduction to Corto Maltese, both character and title, though to newer readers, who would hopefully pick up this volume, it would a come after sixty pages of of escapes and intrigue. Not the wisest of choices, in my opinion, but maybe I’m just nostalgic. For to read _Corto Maltese_ always involves a degree of romantic nostalgia – for adventure fiction of the days of yore. For the likes of Robert Louis Stevenson and Alexander Dumas; exciting – yes; yet also intelligent, literate. Those works have stood the test of time. Likewise _Corto Maltese_. My first exposure wasn’t that long ago, opening the large pages of _Under the Sign of_ Capicorn from IDW’s short-lived Euro Comics imprint. That publishing venture has made two valuable contributions to the world of English-reading comics: The first is the full translation of _Alec Sinner_ , in two vast volumes; the second is a complete edition of _Corto Maltese,_ one of the most seminal of the European "adventure strips." Both series had been partially translated before, and sometimes with art trimmed and reshaped to the limitations of American size, so it was good to see them in their full glory (ugly cover design aside). Alas, no good things last for long, Euro Comics died a quick death and anyone wishing to get copies of _Corto Maltese_ had to pay through the nose (and maybe some other bodily holes) to get their hands on a copy. Which is why I’m so glad for this new initiative, this time by Fantagraphics, reprinting the whole series yet again; still using the Dean Mullaney and Simon Castaldi translation from Euro Comics; though in different publication order, which is why a story I first read in _Under the Sign of Capricorn_ is now published as part of _Fable of Venice and Other Stories_. Readers who simply wish to fill holes in their collection might have their work cut out for them. I might, just like in the case of recent _Moomin_ reprints, argue with some of the choices made by the editors in terms of printing chronology and order of the books (_Fable of Venice_ is a book that assumes some familiarity with the character and his world, the long-running side character Rasputin pops up in the middle with little explanation). These, however, are mere quibbles – any _Corto Maltese_ is good _Corto Maltese,_ 1 a classic since the day of its inception whose power only grows with time. So whatever else you see in this review let it be known that I’m giving Fantagraphics a salute – but of the slapdash type Corto Maltese would probably give someone, acknowledging authority without respecting it too much. Corto Maltese, in case you are uninitiated, is a sailor operating the first half of the 20th century, who tends to end up in various hotspots throughout the globe, from Ethiopia to Siberia to (the subject of the first half of this collection) Venice. The character and title are, on the surface, not much different than dozens of other adventurer types that inhabited much of European and American comics of that period (it would not surprise you to learn that Pratt is a big fan of Milton Caniff). Yet one expecting a chest-thumping simplistic adventure provided by the likes of _Terry and the Pirates_ , _Captain Easy_ or _Scorchy Smith_ would be (pleasantly) surprised. For _Corto Maltese_ is written with a true literary intelligence that eludes much of the competition, and with historical and geographical depth that comes from curiosity. Even something as short in the overall cannon as _Fable of Venice_ contains research into the Freemasons, the influence of Islamic explorers of the architecture of Europe, and the exploits of classic English novelist Baron Corvo. Later works such as _The Golden House of Samarkand_ demand either a keen ability to keep abreast of enough names to populate a Russian classic or a working knowledge of post-World War history. Pratt respected Caniff a great a deal; one can certainly see how he cribbed bits of Caniff’s drawing style, though Pratt wasn’t as rigid as his artistic forbears, and was more willing to experiment with abstraction and using the full scale of the page to his advantage rather than being jailed by the limitations of the panel2, Yet while they played in the same general arena their skills as writers couldn’t be any different. Pratt, one of these rare comics scribes who had experienced the wide world3 before trying their hand at making art, doesn’t treat other countries as mere canvasses for adventure. In some of the best _Corto Maltese_ stories, such as _The Ethiopian_ , Corto is a mere visitor and observer; sometimes assisting and sometimes being dragged along other people’s stories. While _Fable of Venice_ is not the best demonstration of this openness for other cultures, a rare trip to Italy by this Italian writer, its use of Islamic figures (both in the terms of "people" and "script") is thankfully free of broken speech and stereotypical drawings. "Respect" is a key phrase; Pratt respects his readers, never writing down to the younger crowd, and he respects his characters and the culture they represent. “The Secret of Tristan Bantam” has a Caribbean witch demonstrate her powers, yet the moment is presented by Corto as a matter of fact — he has traveled the world far and wide and knows that there are things he doesn’t know. That is part of the charm of _Corto Maltese_ after all. For all its depictions of political violence and repression it presents a snapshot of the world at the last moment when it was still wide, when the unknown was still possible. When Corto Maltese looks at the titular seagull in “The Seagull’s Fault,” it’s the simplest of drawings: the bird is of a basic shape, the sandy beach is just black solid lines and dots, even our main figure is sheared of details — what we see of his mouth is a single half line. Yet in that panel, just like "the man of destiny" panel, there holds an entire world. The full measure of a man, something Pratt achieved with every drawing. Thirty years after the death of its author and almost half a century after its original publication, _Fable of Venice_ still holds up. It is as Corto says, “I’m still here.” 1. Well … assuming it is written and drawn by Hugo Pratt. Like all overtly successful "franchises — how I loath to use that word when discussing a personal tool of expression by one individual — someone eventually decided a continuation by lesser lights was in order. I have not read the new adventures by Juan Díaz Canales and Rubén Pellejero (no English translation yet) but considering how mediocre Canales’ _Blacksad_ ended up being I have little hope. 2. One would think stuff from the Franco-Belgian school would be a better comparison, but Pratt cares little for hyper-detailed backgrounds that populate the clear line school and its modern descendants, Pratt never draws two lines when one would do. 3. This book presents a short biography by the late Kim Thompson, which certainly makes one hungry to read more; a biography of Pratt exists in other languages but, as far as I know, not in English.

Sal Buscema, a comic book legend known for his decade-long run on _The Incredible Hulk_ , eight-year run on _The Spectacular Spider-Man_ , and more, has reportedly passed away at age 89. Today would have been his 90th birthday. The news was first reported on Facebook by artist Sterling Clark, who previously worked on an issue of a book called _National Guardians_ that also included inks from Buscema. Clark was told by Buscema’s wife Joan that the legend passed away last Friday (January 23) — just shy of his 90th birthday. Wrote Clark: > “Wow. I just received word from Mrs. Joan that Sal Buscema passed away last Friday. He was 89. Today, he would’ve turned 90. When I think back on my childhood and all of the comic books that I read, Sal’s name seems to have appeared in just about all of them. I didn’t just read the books that he illustrated, I studied them. > > Every nuance in his pencils and his inks I saw and tried to mimic. He was definitely one of the greats during those years at Marvel, when handling more than three titles a month was not just a requirement but a necessity. Sal’s art had a direct impact on my own, along with his older brother John, Jack Kirby, Gil Kane, John Romita Sr and Ron Frenz. > > Ron, God bless him, was the person responsible for Sal and I meeting some time ago and for that I’ll be forever grateful. Sal was a very nice, kind and generous person who I am happy to have known and who took note of my skills enough to mentor me. The wonderful conversations we had will always be cherished. > > My condolences to his wife Joan, the Buscema family and to all of us fans who grew up with and love his amazing art. I’ll have more posts later. – SC” Originally from Brooklyn, Buscema started in the comic book industry as an inker, working with his brother John Buscema on art at Dell Comics. Though he bumped around to different jobs over time, it wasn’t until 1968 that he came into his own. That’s when he interviewed at Marvel, under encouragement from his brother, and eventually got some work working on Western comics. He also worked with John on _Silver Surfer_ , inking his brother’s pencils, before Buscema started pencilling _Avengers_. Other runs for Marvel over the course of three decades include stints on _The Uncanny X-Men, Sub-Mariner, Captain America_ , and _Marvel Team-Up_. In the latter, he created Jean DeWolff, and helped debut the spinoff Spider-Man title _Spectacular Spider-Man_. He also worked on _New Mutants_ , and _Thor_ with Walt Simonson. Then in the ’90s he jumped over to DC for some work on _Batman, Superman_ and others — though that only lasted two years before he moved back to Marvel. Buscema married his wife, Joan, in 1960, and had three sons: Joe, Tony, and Mike. He’s been the recipient of the Inkpot Award, the Inkwell Awards, and the Ringo Award. While the news has yet to spread on the internet as of this writing, other legends paid tribute to his birthday today, including J.M. Dematteis, who wrote on BlueSky, “Sal Buscema turns 90 today. There’s hardly a Marvel character Sal hasn’t left his mark on, from Cap to the Hulk, Avengers to Thor. Working with Sal for two years on Spectacular Spider-Man remains a highlight of my career. And the best part? He’s not just a great artist, he’s a truly good guy.” ## Comic Book Club Live Info: Want to watch Comic Book Club live? We stream every Tuesday at 7 p.m. ET on YouTube and Twitch. Come hang out, and ask questions of our guests (and us!). _And_ you could potentially win a $25 gift card to Midtown Comics. You can check out a current list of upcoming guests and other live appearances on our Shows page. ### Share this: * * Tweet * Share on Tumblr * Click to email a link to a friend (Opens in new window) Email * * * * ### Discover more from Comic Book Club Subscribe to get the latest posts sent to your email. Type your email… Subscribe

Corto Maltés. La reina de Babilonia. Imagen: Norma. En el mundo de la ficción y de la fantasía, resucitar a alguien desaparecido es una tarea valiente, arriesgada y a veces hasta imposible —el genio de la lámpara es incapaz de hacerlo—, pero devolver la vida a cualquiera en un mundo completamente ajeno al suyo original puede resultar funesto. Solo hay que recordar la que lía Imhotep en la película _La momia_ , de **Stephen Sommers** , o lo que supone para la débil y vulnerable mente de Fry su resurrección en _Futurama_. El rey Arturo ha tenido también varias ocasiones para regresar a la vida en el tiempo presente, de tal manera que se ha convertido casi en un cliché de redención fallida e incluso trágica. Con su regreso, todos estos personajes se ven envueltos en problemas de identidad y pertenencia, además de que les resulta muy complicado hacer una interpretación histórica óptima del tiempo presente en el que regresan. El salto temporal provoca que se pierdan muchos de los pasos intermedios como para poder hacer un trazado lógico de los hechos acontecidos desde el punto original hasta el presente sin caer en una explicación mágica. Esto, en la narrativa, genera habitualmente el punto débil de los villanos y el aporte cómico de los héroes. Se podría decir que, en cierta manera, **Juan Díaz Canales** y **Rubén Pellejero** resucitaron en 2015 a otro de los héroes clásicos de las historias ficticias; uno del cómic: Corto Maltés. Sus hasta ahora cinco álbumes se dedican a recuperar al protagonista de _La balada del mar salado_ de un modo continuista respecto a la época, a la línea argumental y a los trazos clásicos de **Hugo Pratt**. Pero la verdadera resurrección de este mítico personaje se produjo en el año 2021, cuando **Martin Quenehen** y **Bastien Vivès** se lanzaron a recuperarlo dando un enorme salto temporal. Corto Maltés, el marino y pirata que originalmente nació en La Valeta en 1887, regresa a la vida, más joven aún de lo que se marchó, casi cien años después de su desaparición —que se supone en 1936— durante la guerra civil española. Del mundo de la incipiente Primera Guerra Mundial a la realidad previa a la caída de las Torres Gemelas: dos puntos de inflexión histórica con una complejidad ideal para contar historias de aventuras. Hugo Pratt dejó claro antes de su muerte, en 1995, que «Corto Maltés se irá porque en un mundo en el que todo es electrónico, donde todo está calculado e industrializado, no hay lugar para un tipo como él». Lo dijo en la entrevista que le hizo **Dominique Petitfaux** y que posteriormente dio forma al libro _L’autre côté de Corto_ (_A la sombra de Corto_ , en castellano). **La decepción de la resurrección** —¿Cuándo va a regresar? —Yo no le daría muchas vueltas a eso, Bedivere. La experiencia me dice que la gente no regresa. Y si lo hacen, ya no son los mismos. Esto se lo dice Morgana a uno de los más famosos caballeros de la Mesa Redonda en la última novela de **Lev Grossman** , _La espada fulgurante_. No voy a destripar nada importante de este libro; simplemente diré que el rey Arturo ha desaparecido y algunos de sus caballeros lo están buscando desesperadamente, al igual que la lanza de Longinos. Quizá Le Fay tenga razón y Hugo Pratt, acostumbrado a vagar por los océanos de los mitos celtas, sabía también eso. La sensación que tengo al leer _Océano negro_ y, sobre todo, _La reina de Babilonia_ —etapa Quenehen y Vivès— es que el Corto Maltés que ha vuelto no es el mismo. El joven Corto de la pareja francesa es un idealista romántico, desubicado e inadaptado, que no encaja en este mundo. En cuanto a las cuestiones técnicas, Bastien Vivès es considerado uno de los artistas de cómic del momento, y no lo voy a discutir. El uso de las manchas negras, de esa imitación de la caligrafía china con la que Pratt dibujaba a Corto, está magníficamente representado. Hay viñetas espectaculares, con una ejecución maravillosa. Las páginas en las que recorre Tokio o la huida en lancha son muy evocadoras y representativas del virtuosismo del autor. En cuanto al guion, son muchos los guiños y las situaciones calcadas a algunos álbumes de Pratt. Y no es algo negativo: a los que somos asiduos a las aventuras de Corto, creo que nos gusta ver estas cosas. Pero, en lugar de querer saber cómo va a salir Corto de esa situación difícil en la que se ha metido, de cerrar los ojos y dar el salto de fe junto a él, casi me produce ternura; me apiado de él y paso la página con temor, con vergüenza o con lástima. Lo veo frágil. Lo veo vulnerable. Lo noto desubicado. Temo que vaya a dar un paso en falso, que termine rematadamente mal, de forma ridícula. Con esto no quiero decir que la historia en sí me parezca mal o que no debería existir un personaje de este tipo, con estas características. Simplemente, el Corto que espero y que recuerdo no es este. Sí, es innegable. El rostro del Maltés está ahí, pero su mirada es tan inocente que no lo acabo de reconocer. Corto es idealista, soñador y quizá peca de iluso en ocasiones, pero su mirada lo hace consciente de la dureza del mundo. De hecho, él forma parte del lado más oscuro de este: pega, roba, engaña, asesina… Pero, aun así, siento que el código de nobleza de Corto no pertenece a este tiempo y la inocencia del marino rejuvenecido me saca de la historia. **La idealización del resucitado** Tengo la sensación de que hay algo más profundo en este cambio que percibo a la hora de revivir el mito. Una razón más prosaica y quizá polémica, pero es que Corto es un maltés dibujado por un italiano, mientras que el joven Corto también es maltés, pero plasmado en papel por una pareja de franceses. Pratt dotó a sus historietas de una atmósfera y un tono poético, humanístico, melancólico y libertario, mientras que el nuevo Corto navega por las brumas de un existencialismo racional e intelectual, más romantizado. Me planteo cómo habría sido una _Divina comedia_ escrita por **Sartre** o _La náusea_ por el propio **Dante**. Es posible que la tradición literaria y filosófica italiana se asemeje más a la española y por eso el Corto Maltés de Díaz Canales y Pellejero me haya resultado mucho más cercano que el de Quenehen y Vivès. De todos modos, a la hora de valorar estas nuevas historias de Corto Maltés tengo que ser justo, pues no tengo ni la misma edad ni el mismo bagaje cultural ni vital que cuando me aproximé por primera vez al trabajo de Pratt. Desde la primera vez que leí _Fábula de Venecia_ quedé absolutamente destellado por la figura del marino del pendiente. Ha pasado tiempo suficiente desde entonces como para que mis recuerdos, mis lecturas y experiencias hayan aupado al altar sacrosanto de la idealización a Corto Maltés. Un lugar desde el que se magnifica lo bueno y se oculta lo malo de lo idealizado. El filósofo **Pablo Mula Buitrago** —colaborador, entre otras, de la revista _Mercurio_ y de esta misma que estás leyendo— dice que esto se debe a «la necesidad de evitar la decepción ante la realidad, de sortear la incertidumbre y hasta de compensar la baja autoestima». Añade que «es injusto respecto al sujeto idealizado: significa la negación de tomarlo como debe ser tomado, en sí mismo. Y es injusto respecto al propio idealizador, si así valoramos el autoengaño». Esto viene a decir que, quiera o no, lo vea o no, Corto Maltés también vive en el siglo XXI. Que es mi propia e injusta idealización del personaje la que no me deja reconocer en la joven y nueva mirada de Corto a mi fiel amigo Maltés, habitante del siglo anterior. No me queda otra que aceptar el peaje de la idealización y confiar en que el joven Corto Maltés sabrá adaptarse al mundo calculado e industrializado que le ha tocado vivir, de nuevo. En la ficción, ni el tiempo ni el espacio distan demasiado. En la realidad, los sueños soñados permanecen, mientras que los soñadores envejecen.

YouTube video by Shopping For Superman

<p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Centre Pompidou’s massive celebratory exhibition </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Comics, 1964-2024</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> was as ambitious of an attempt to sum up the modern history of comics as anything I’ve ever seen, and it featured enough original art to leave any comics lover reeling. While it was amazing to pore over the work of so many cartoonists from around the world, the part of the exhibit that stood out to me the most was not a page of original comic art, but a miniature cardboard town titled </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;">. </span></p> <p><img alt="" class="aligncenter size-body-images wp-image-175906" decoding="async" fetchpriority="high" height="540" sizes="(max-width: 720px) 100vw, 720px" src="https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-3-720x540.jpg" srcset="https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-3-720x540.jpg 720w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-3-640x480.jpg 640w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-3-1400x1051.jpg 1400w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-3-768x577.jpg 768w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-3-1536x1153.jpg 1536w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-3-2048x1537.jpg 2048w" width="720"/></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">You only have to take a glance at </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> to know that the project came from the mind of Seth – it looks like a Seth drawing brought to life - a neat little city that may have existed somewhere once, with three-story bookstores and brick walled factories and cleverly themed business names. Reading more about the piece, I was delighted to find out that the artist handcrafted each of the buildings himself from cardboard boxes. The longer I looked at the buildings, the more I was taken in by each one. The quality of every outlined window, the vintage feel of the tiny hand painted signs, the complicated architectural elements (like corner entrances and a Greek temple façade) all added up to make this pristine and nostalgic quality that we are so familiar with in Seth’s drawn work. </span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">While the richest part of the work can only be observed by getting close to the display, stepping away from </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> made for interesting viewing too. The effect of the physical nature of the piece and the amount of space it took up in the gallery stood in contrast with the rest of the art on display. Most of the art in </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Comics, 1964-2024</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> consisted of comics pages in frames mounted on walls or laying in table cases. </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> took up a good portion of the center of a room. It had to be maneuvered around. It took up physical space. </span></p> <p><img alt="" class="aligncenter size-body-images wp-image-175904" decoding="async" height="959" sizes="(max-width: 720px) 100vw, 720px" src="https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-1-720x959.jpg" srcset="https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-1-720x959.jpg 720w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-1-481x640.jpg 481w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-1-1400x1864.jpg 1400w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-1-768x1023.jpg 768w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-1-1153x1536.jpg 1153w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-1-1538x2048.jpg 1538w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-1.jpg 1541w" width="720"/></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Walking around the large display, I began to understand why some comics fans also like to collect figurines. Not only does a miniature divorce style from the storytelling aspects of a comics page, a character model, or in this case a city model, satisfies our hunger for more detail. We can get closer for a better look. We can see the back of each building just as we can see the front (and the sides too!). We can choose to look at the city from above or from a lower angle. It’s a completely different way to interact with the art. </span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Of course, the </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> buildings are even more interesting than plastic models because they were made by hand, by the artist, out of ordinary materials. Because they were made by hand, we can see where <a href="https://www.tcj.com/turning-away-from-reality-seths-clyde-fans/">Seth</a> would cut and fold and roll the cardboard to accomplish each individual effect. That tactile nature of the work makes the artist’s touch seem more present and adds a sense of weight to each creation. An inexact cut of a piece of cardboard would have rendered it unusable for a building that needed a roof or a door or a window of a certain size and shape. We understand (or at least can guess at) the massive amount of physical effort, as well as planning, that would go into each building because we can see (or at least guess at) how they were made. </span></p> <p><img alt="" class="aligncenter size-body-images wp-image-175907" decoding="async" height="541" sizes="(max-width: 720px) 100vw, 720px" src="https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-4-720x541.jpg" srcset="https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-4-720x541.jpg 720w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-4-640x481.jpg 640w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-4-1400x1052.jpg 1400w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-4-768x577.jpg 768w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-4-1536x1154.jpg 1536w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-4.jpg 2042w" width="720"/></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">When it comes to comics, we rarely get to see the physicality of the materials involved. The book in our hands is cleaned up, prepared for publication. Sometimes, in self-published comics we get the grainy noise from a photocopier, but usually we don’t see anything beyond the final art we are meant to see. We don’t see blue pencil lines or the sections that got whited out. We can’t always decipher how (or how much) ink was laid down for a section of black. We usually can’t even tell the scale the artist was originally working at. That’s a big part of the fun of exhibits like </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Comics, 1964-2024</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;">; we get a little more insight into the process. We get to see eraser marks and bits of pasted Bristol board. But the pages of art displayed, with all their physicality and texture, are still not the works as they are meant to be seen. The physical details of those pages are not central to the final work, which almost always loses the physical aspects tied to its creation. In a work like </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;">, the physical aspects and details are present in the work’s form. In fact, they make up a lot of what makes the piece special. </span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">It isn’t only the choice of materials and format that set </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> strangely at odds with the rest of the work in the exhibit. Beyond the fact that it was created by a well-known cartoonist, it didn’t really have a connection to the rest of the exhibition’s focus on sequential storytelling and comics culture. (Though, to be fair, this section of the exhibit </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">was</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> titled “Villes/Cities”). </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> is not lifted from a comic. There is no cartooning involved. In fact, the work seemed to stand in direct contrast against the other work being displayed. It told no story. It featured no panels. It simply was.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Cartooning has a primary intention built in – communication. </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> may communicate something, but it was not made to communicate. It wasn’t even made for an audience. In the 2014 documentary film called </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Seth’s Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> (dir. Luc Chamberland), Seth speaks to why he works on projects like </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;">. “As an artist, you should have work that isn’t just to be published, and that’s why I have all these little hobbies, as I call them…That’s why I have the city of Dominion. It’s very different than working on a comic page where you know the minute you start it that you’re planning to publish it. That’s a straightforward artistic goal of trying to communicate with another person. There’s something really valuable about doing art that’s just for yourself.” </span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">That personal aspect, that non-communicative instinct, one that avoids or at least ignores a public audience, colors how we might try to understand the work. </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;">, though its cardboard buildings may be on display in a museum exhibit about comics, exists for a reason outside of an audience. It was made for Seth’s enjoyment. Because we know this, we can assume that the artistic choices Seth makes with </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> are made solely to follow his own aesthetic and his own interests. It’s as pure of a Seth work as one can imagine, and it’s thankfully presented in a way that the viewer can soak in every miniscule detail and artistic choice. It serves as is a treasure trove of Seth’s interests and skill and style. But that’s not all.</span></p> <p><img alt="" class="aligncenter size-body-images wp-image-175908" decoding="async" height="541" loading="lazy" sizes="auto, (max-width: 720px) 100vw, 720px" src="https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-5-720x541.jpg" srcset="https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-5-720x541.jpg 720w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-5-640x480.jpg 640w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-5-1400x1051.jpg 1400w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-5-768x577.jpg 768w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-5-1536x1153.jpg 1536w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-5-2048x1538.jpg 2048w" width="720"/></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">What is possibly most tantalizing about the whole project is that, though the cardboard city we see is so rich with detail, it is not the complete work – the complete work isn’t even finished. Elaborating over email about the ongoing project, Seth writes, “Those little cardboard buildings are the tip of an iceberg of my imaginary city.  Most of the planning of Dominion has gone into a series of workbooks that catalog and describe the history, people and urban landscape of the place.  It has gotten quite elaborate over the years and lately it is more about the ‘famous’ citizens of the town than anything else. One element builds upon the other and it is a process of endless elaboration. A great pleasure to work on.”</span></p> <p><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> is also a great pleasure to think about. Who are the famous citizens of Dominion? How do they spend their days? What are their dramas? Dominion’s cardboard <a href="https://www.tcj.com/building-stories-stories-about-art-and-buildings-and-growing-up/">buildings,</a> in their neat rows, teem with those questions and possibilities. Getting up close to the buildings, you can easily imagine a schoolteacher popping into the shop for a gallon of milk or a lawyer waiting in line at City Hall for some paperwork. And because we are familiar with Seth’s work, with his characters and his storytelling, we can recognize the echoes of his unseen city – even when we cannot see it.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">Even as a partial work, knowing the background of the piece makes the cardboard buildings of </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> feel like possibly more of a statement for Seth’s distinctive style and personal interests than any of his published work. We know that </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> is what Seth works on outside of consideration for a reader and publishing schedules and the confines of what can be printed in a book, and that (as well as the time consuming and labor-intensive physical aspects of the work) makes it stand apart from Seth’s published work.</span></p> <p><span style="font-weight: 400;">What has delighted me the most about learning about </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> is that Seth also holds this mostly-unseen work to be of high importance. While it might be easy for fans of Seth’s cartooning to dismiss </span><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Dominion</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> as a side project or a curiosity compared to his impressive body of published graphic novel work, Seth disagrees. In his email, he writes, “Probably, in the end, these notebooks will be the real life's work.  I only hope I live another 20 years to get to the ‘finishing point’ with them. They can never really be finished but I know that at a certain point I will hit a kind of critical mass of information and it will feel ‘finished enough.’"</span></p> <p><i><span style="font-weight: 400;">Comics, 1964-2024</span></i><span style="font-weight: 400;"> ran in Centre Pompidou from May 29 – Nov 4 2024</span></p> <p><img alt="" class="aligncenter size-body-images wp-image-175905" decoding="async" height="541" loading="lazy" sizes="auto, (max-width: 720px) 100vw, 720px" src="https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-2-720x541.jpg" srcset="https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-2-720x541.jpg 720w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-2-640x481.jpg 640w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-2-1400x1051.jpg 1400w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-2-768x577.jpg 768w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-2-1536x1154.jpg 1536w, https://the-comics-journal.sfo3.digitaloceanspaces.com/wp-content/uploads/2025/01/dominion-2-2048x1538.jpg 2048w" width="720"/></p>